I've bee drinking quite alot. Getting my brain matter a bit stir crazy. Trying to translate thought into empathy. Poetry. Yeah, poets, yeah, we know, this ability is much like loving the sensitivity of the military.

Drink a bit more. Translate brutality. Into empathy. Take my words. Make them to you, and then to feel what I want you to feel through my filters.

This is my language. This is what I share with dedicated murderers. This is what I hope I can use to grasp a thump of your heart, without the voidy echo of the moments of the passed bullet.

permalink